Confrontation
by e-dowely
Summary: Nobody thought he could be captured. He was a ghost, a rumor spread throughout Autobot bases to keep them alert. Now that he's caught things are certainly going to get interesting. AU with a little bit of IDW. Jazz and Prowl centric
1. Chapter 1

_Author's note- This is AU with a hint of IDW. Enjoy_

The entire Iacon base was practically buzzing with excitement and Prowl could feel the giddiness in the air as he paced slowly down the hall. Beside him, he eyed Sideswipe who was in the process of sneaking up behind Sunstreaker. The yellow twin was in mid turn before he was clasped roughly on his back by a grinning Sideswipe, earning him a rather homicidal glare. Prowl passed them indifferent, well aware that this sudden rise in moral was caused by the capture of a very infamous Decepticon. Who, Prowl wasn't sure but his every intention at the moment was to head down to the brig and uncover who had caused such a ruckus.

"Sir!" Bluestreak called out approaching the senior officer with a gentle wave of his hand and a half jog, only coming to a stop directly at Prowl's left. Prowl nodded his head to the younger mech in his usual greeting. "I can't believe they caught him! I mean actually caught this one. We all had bets going but none of us were even close." He continued and Prowl listened or rather half listened before stopping him.

"Who did they catch?" He asked stopping the younger mech in his tracks. Bluestreak raised his doorwings slightly.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. So I'll wait until you see him yourself. I think even you'd be surprised." Prowl once again found himself nodding even though he disliked the aspect of having to wait even longer to find out this mystery con.

"Who is responsible for the capture?' He redirected. Bluestreak snorted slightly restraining a broad grin.

"Ironhide, Sir. The con literally landed at his feet." He uttered and Prowl raised an optic ridge and waited for the mech to elaborate which Bluestreak did, quite happily. "He was in the vents. Apparently one of the support beams that hold them up rusted out and just happened to give out with his added weight. He fell right through the ceiling, plop on Ironhide's feet."

"How unexpected." He grunted which incited another quiet chuckle from Bluestreak.

"It gets even better once you find out who it is." He added which once again caused Prowl to raise a single optic ridge at the bot beside him before shrugging it off and following the mech to the brig.

Ironhide was the one who met them at the heavily armored door to the brig and he greeted Prowl with his signature grunt, barely inclining his head. He turned to the side, tapping into a small keypad and opening the door for the second in command.

"I'd be careful. Glitch took out the lights." The armored mech drawled as he stepped to the side. "Don' know how he did it. But he did it." He muttered and Prowl walked passed him, not without a quick thank you. Bluestreak on the other hand stopped at the door, seemingly more interested in talking with Ironhide then seeing the mystery con again.

The room was practically black with the only light coming from the open door, lighting enough to see the very outline of the bars. Prowl clasped his hands behind his back as he fully entered the room, stopping a good distance from where the bars were located. Slowly a dim red light illuminated as a single crimson red visor onlined. The con smiled, the light from his visor reflecting on the silver metal of his face and bringing Prowls attention to his cruel grin.

"How lucky is little ol' me. None other than Prime's pet computer." The con purred and Prowl felt his back straighten as his optic's narrowed. No wonder everyone was so hyped up from this particular con's capture.

"Hello, Jazz." Prowl droned and at the mention of his name, Jazz's grin seemed to grow wider and even more malicious. "I would have expected a more…. _Dignified _capture for a spy of your reputation." He added, expecting to rile the saboteur up but instead it seemed to humor the mech.

"What can I say," He hummed and Prowl could see the glint of metal moving as Jazz moved his arms out to his side to gesture with his hands. "ahm full of surprises."

"Yes. I'm sure you gave Ironhide quite the surprise when you misjudged the vent's structure and fell to the floor at his peds." Jazz chuckled again before turning serious in less than a second.

"You calling me fat? Mech tha's just plain rude. My figure is just perfect." The spy uttered and though he sounded actually offended, Prowl could see and practically hear the cocky grin hidden on the mech. It confused him and threw him off slightly and if there was one thing that Prowl didn't like, it was being thrown off. Slowly Prowl activated the general Autobot coms The only ones that would be working within the cell's dampening field.

"Red Alert." He spoke and the change caught the spy's attention and he silently shifted.

"Yes Prowl?" The security director answered in no time at all.

"Bring up the emergency lights in the brig, cell section c."

"Yes sir." Red Alert answered and within moments a low hum was heard before several, almost hidden lights flickered on. Jazz flinched at the sudden brightness, covering his visor with his arm as he quickly dialed down the sensitivity. He growled as he removed his arm, giving the mech a particularly homicidal glare.

"Not cool mech. Not cool." He snarled. Prowl didn't respond to the glare.

"I take it you don't like the light?" He asked.

"Take it you don like the dark." Jazz countered and Prowl raised a single optic ridge that, observing the mech that sat crouched on the standard prison bunk with his hands interlocked just under his chin. His left arm was dented and tainted with a splatter of dried energon and judging by the condition of Ironhide, Prowl assumed that it belonged to Jazz. Prowl approached the bars with one single long stride, keeping just enough distance away so that if Jazz made to grab him he would have enough distance to act accordingly.

"Considering that you are going to be here for a while, care to tell me what exactly you were doing in our vent system?" Prowl asked. Jazz looked up, cracking another one of his lopsided grins before laughing outright.

"Please mech. You think this gonna hold me?" He blew air out of his vents in disbelief.

"There is less than a twenty percent chance of you escaping with the security measure we have in place. I would recommend making yourself very comfortable Jazz. You are going to be here for a while." Almost instantly Jazz good natured grin faltered and he leaned forward, fixating on the mech just outside of his cell.

"There ain't nothin' that can hold me. I'm gonna get out an ahm gonna kill a lotta mechs. This was your biggest mistake Prowl, keepin' me here." He growled and Prowl himself remained surprisingly calm and collected which only served to irritate the spy.

"We will see Jazz." He paused, nodding his head. "Until I return." He stated taking a step back and contacting Red Alert once again. "Cut the lights down to thirty percent."

"Yes sir." The security director answered and instantaneously the lights dimmed down considerably. It wasn't as dark as it was before but it certainly made it difficult to see the saboteur sitting in the cell. Prowl turned and exited leaving Jazz to glower to himself, his visor glowing a darker red in the low light. He remained frowning before splitting a particularly wicked snarl.

"I will break you mech." He promised to the dark. "Ain't nobody play me like that."

Prowl took a moment to pause outside of the brig, just beside the red statue that was Ironhide. The gruff mech nodded to Prowl, eying him with a sideways glance.

"He's some piece of work ain't he?" He grunted and Prowl simply nodded.

"He certainly is."

"So what we going to do with im'?" Ironhide paused. "It's your call Prowl. Prime's not back for a while." He reminded the second in command who nodded more to himself then the other mech.

"That has yet to be determined. I wish to go over every possibility before acting." He answered and Ironhide once again grunted, not choosing to comment on his answer. Whether he was satisfied or not, Prowl could not determine so instead of concentrating on it too much he nodded his goodbyes and left to his office where at least he could think in peace.

Prowl's office was bare all except for a wide collection of data pads ranging from his own personal collection to work related reports that far outnumbered anything else. Everything was neat and orderly without a single speck of dust on any surface. To anyone else it was a little bit unnerving for anyone's working quarters to be so orderly but to Prowl it was perfect. The clean was calming. It helped him think but now it seemed to do quite the opposite.

Slowly he let his head rest in his hands, exhaling air out of his vents to calm the uneasiness that was so foreign to him. Of all Decepticons to capture, why did it have to be Jazz. Jazz was an anomaly. He was unpredictable, sadistic, and purely insane. Prowl huffed again. One could not predict insanity; it just happened without any sort of rhyme or reason and it drove the logical mech into a splitting processor ache that was sure to drive him mad.

"Who are you Jazz?" Prowl muttered as he activated Teletran 1 in hopes of accessing some sort of file that would give him insight in the ever mysterious and elusive Decepticon saboteur.

….

The few assembled Autobot's looked considerably groggy as they sat around the debriefing table, waiting for Prowl to enter the room and begin the last minute meeting he had all disturbed their recharge for. Ratchet huffed, giving the seemingly very wide awake Red Alert a rather dirty glare as the mech remained very up and ready despite the state of the others.

Prowl entered holding a single data pad which he seemed to regard with great importance as he skimmed whatever was held on it. He stopped just before the group, not moving or even making a sound for a good few minutes which made the already irritable Ironhide wish for one of his many weapons.

"I thank you all for coming on short notice." He began but was only answered with a room of seemingly hostile glares that the second in command was seemingly oblivious to. "I called you all here to debrief you on the capture of Decepticon spy, Jazz. I would also like to go over the tactical advantages on this as well as the dangers of having such a mech. Firstly though, Ironhide." He gestured to the red mech. "I would like you recollect the details of your arrest." Ironhide seemed to pause for a second before shrugging.

"It was nothin' I did. I was walking down the normal path I always take after going to the firein' range. I heard a shift above me. Stopped and then bam. Jazz hit the floor. He was too baffled to put much of a fight. I outmanned him and drug him to the brig. Simple as that." He grunted leaning back in his chair. Prowl nodded to him.

"That particular vent system has long been on my list of repairs, sir. We just haven't had the resources to actually do it, despite the security threat that I had anticipated." Red Alert added. Prowl hummed.

"And did you put it in an official report?" He asked and the security director seemed appalled by the idea.

"And have a huge weakness exposed in writing for all to see!? I'm not mad sir." He squeaked.

"So tell me Red Alert, who did you notify of this problem?" He asked.

"The only one I could trust at the moment. Prime, sir." The mech answered sounding rather certain of his choice and Prowl found himself scratching at his chin in thought.

"No one else?" He muttered and instead of Red Alert answering, Ratchet instead interrupted.

"What are you implying Prowl?" He muttered and the mech in question crossed his arms. "Are you implying that this was staged by the spy?"

"I am going over all possible situations. I was looking over the files we have on the saboteur, which are very few mind you. Jazz has quite the reputation. His identity was just recently discovered actually. Before he was a nameless, faceless, horror story that was being passed among Autobot bases. I find it hard to believe that someone of such talent would have been so unlucky." Prowl explained.

"Hey, it's not all that uncommon." Bumblebee happily cut in, being the only member of special ops to be not out in the middle of a mission. "Even the best of us mess up." He grinned. "Sometimes your luck just, you know, runs out. And besides. What could Jazz possibly do inside of one of our most secure cells. The best spy is an unseen one."

"True. The likelihood of him being captured as part of his plan doesn't fit his M.O. He is too…" Prowl paused as if looking for the perfect description. "Prideful." He finally decided but frowned at the word as if he wasn't completely satisfied with it.

"What are we gonna do with the glitch?" Ironhide grunted.

"I plan to interrogate Jazz to determine what his intentions were. At least until Optimus Prime returns and then it will be his discretion."

"You sir will be the one holding the interrogations? I highly recommend electing someone who isn't the current acting leader to interrogate the highly volatile Decepticon." Red Alert piped in sounding rather bothered.

"Yes, Red Alert. That would have been the logical decision but according to the profile we have on Jazz he is well known for his manipulative techniques by using different forms of mental tortures. I am the most qualified and less likely to respond to his techniques. Plus currently I have the most experience with interrogations. The benefit far out ways the risk."

….

Jazz had his back to the wall as he sat cross legged on the metal slab that served as his berth. His body was hunched away and Prowl was certain that the spy was unaware of his presence at the door. The spy muttered something under his breath as he tossed a good sized plate of armor from his forearm.

"Ya just gonna watch me like that, mech?" Jazz growled causing Prowl to stiffen at the sudden snarled tone. Another muttered grunt sounded from the spy and Prowl was almost certain that it was a curse.

"I intended to observe you for a little longer before announcing my presence." He answered truthfully and Jazz actually stopped what he was doing. He turned his whole torso to glance at Prowl, dumbfounded. He nodded slightly.

"Alrighty Prowler. Tha's just a little creepy." He muttered, going back to fiddling with his arm which Prowl took notice for the first time. He frowned at the exposed wire and dried energon coating the spy.

"What are you doing?" He asked and Jazz took a moment glance at him before biting down on a wire and pulling on it. Prowl flinched and acted as if he was going to move forward to stop the mech from committing self-termination.

"Was it look like ahm doing?" He muttered with the wires still in his denta. "Fixin' my arm. Tha'd red brute of yours did some damage. I can barely even move it." Jazz griped and Prowl for a moment assumed that the mech's pride hurt more than his arm. The mech held the wires taunt with his teeth as he used his now free hand to reach inside, messing with something.

"As a prisoner of war, Jazz, I am inclined to offer you medical services." He intoned and Jazz turned his head to look at Prowl who felt the glare despite the red visor. "Sedated of course." Prowl added which seemed to do nothing to ease the mech before him.

"Look. I don't do medics. and I certainly don't do tha Hatchet." Prowl frowned.

"The Hatchet?" He asked and the confusion was so evident on the mech's face that Jazz would have laughed if not for the risk of biting through the wires he was holding in his mouth. He spat them out just in case.

"It's a nickname, mech. Ya know. The scourge of the med bay? Heard he has a mean arm with a wrench?" Jazz tried and the corner of Prowl's lip components twitched in a barely concealed smirk.

"I see." He responded and Jazz gave a wicked grin in response to Prowl's almost slip."

"So tell me mech. Wha's on the schedule for today? Ya gonna torture me for all my Decepticon secrets or are ya gonna spout Autobot propaganda and help me see the error of ma ways?" Jazz asked, repositioning himself so that he was sitting on his berth, facing the second in command.

"You already have your preconceived notions on the Autobots. I doubt anything I say will change that." Prowl intoned and Jazz laughed.

"Glad we have an understandin'. So let's get on to the torture." Jazz answered meaning to spread both arms in invitation but only one responded, leaving the other one hanging lip against the spy's frame. He stopped to give it a hostile glare as if that would get it respond. Prowl raised a single optic ridge at that but decided to ignore it in favor of responding to Jazz's statement.

"As an Autobot I do not condone torture as a form of interrogation." Jazz gave a dark laugh at that.

"Since when." He growled.

"The Autobots have changed since the Senate was in charge," Prowl started to explain but was interrupted by Jazz slamming his only functioning arm on the metal berth, hard enough to dent the metal. Prowl looked at the mech in surprise and Jazz seemed to glowering menacingly, his visor glowing a darker red.

"Change the subject." He growled. Prowl tilted his head to the side.

"Why?"

"Because pissin' me off mech ain't a good way to keep me in a talkative mood. Ya dig?" The spy hissed.

"If you insist then Jazz." Prowl placated, taking a moment to move back and take a seat. Jazz remained vigilant and tense as if daring Prowl to continue on about the senate, a sore subject that Prowl planned on extorting in the future. "I looked up your file in Teletran 1." He began and suddenly without any warning that same easy going and cocky grin found itself on Jazz's visored face.

"Did ya now? Was I interestin'?" He purred and Prowl remained expressionless.

"Rather boring actually. Apparently you didn't exist before the war. There are two files. One recent and one not. Both are rather… short." He informed and Jazz gave Prowl a lopsided grin before leaning back on the wall, crossing one leg over the other as he returned to repairing his arm.

"Nope." The spy practically sung out once again catching Prowl and confusing him.

"No? I don't understand what you are disagreeing about." He muttered and Jazz glanced over at him.

"We are not discussin' my past, Prowler. It just ain't happenin."

"I see no harm in it. Considering that you don't want to go over the details of you being here in the first place." Prowl informed with a subtle wave of his hand. Jazz deadpanned.

"I don't feel like bein' profiled. Cause that's wha you're gonna do. So nope. Not happenin'. Change the station." He finalized. Prowl sighed internally.

"Very well then." He paused. "I did read in the current file that you have a very successful rate as a saboteur."

"Many of your bases will agree. Well if they were still around tha is." Jazz interrupted with a cocky smirk that hung on the edges of his lips. Prowl seemed rather unaffected by the statement as he pulled up his data pad, scrolling through the information.

"Which brings up the question of why you are here." Prowl asked and Jazz laughed out loud.

"I thought we went over this. A magician never gives away his littl' secrets."

"Yes but I'm not asking what you're doing in our base. I'm asking what you are doing in this cell captured. It would be an illogical assumption for me to believe you want to be in here."

"Perhaps its all in ma plans." Jazz purred, wiggling the sharp claws on his still functioning hand. Prowl simply raised an optic ridge.

"I doubt it." He deadpanned and Jazz actually frowned, his lips setting into a firm line. Both Jazz and Prowl seemed to stare at each other, not losing eye contact as if daring the other one to continue. Jazz was the first to move, his angry reserve cracking into a wicked smile as something obvious dawned on him. He leaned back, letting Prowl feel truly uncomfortable due to the sudden change in the spy's demeanor.

"Wha's botherin' ya mech?" He purred, showing teeth. "Is it tha you found somthin' that doesn't sit right in that little spinning computer that you call a brain?" The mech edged, sitting up and leaning closer to the bars. There was a subtle twitch of Prowl's door wings and it had been so slight that Jazz almost debated if he had seen it at all.

"What bothers me, Jazz is that you have been caught." Prowl leaned forward. "I don't understand why you decided to take a riskier path when there were several better alternatives? This whole situation is so very illogical." He finished and Jazz was silent and just staring at Prowl. Slowly he shook his head as he gave a dry and heartless chuckle.

"See now mech. This makes me wonder how yer still functioning." He began with a slow cutting motion with his hand. Prowl let his head tilt to the side and his expression actually slipped from his normal stoic glare to blatant surprise. His mouth moved in an attempt to defend himself but Jazz cut him off.

"War ain't logical. Nothin' about war is logical. Makes mechs do things they wouln' normally do. Take ol' Megsy for example. He don make sense." Jazz began.

"He used to." Prowl added. "At the beginning."

"Yeah. Back when he and ol' Orion were buds. I bet you and a bunch of your 'bots were gearing to join his side?" He questioned and Prowl nodded.

"Well yes. I'm not one to deny how corrupt the golden age was. The segregations, the illegal experimentations, and the …. Senate. Megatron was a beacon of hope for a lot of down and broken mechs. It gave them the courage to stand. I myself used to listen to his speeches." Prowl paused. "Then he changed. Everything changed."

"War, mech. War ain't a game. Mechs ain't pawns. They don't follow a rule book. Ya can't predict Megs because ya can't even hope to understand im." Jazz chuckled holding his arm out. "And ya can't even begin to predict me because I don't make plans. I just do."

"That doesn't make sense." Prowl informed him and Jazz only smiled ad if he knew more than he was letting on.

"Precisely."

_Author's note- The thought of Jazz being a Decepticon fascinates me, thus inspiring this. Please review_


	2. Chapter 2

"He's not taking his cubes!" The statement was punctuated with a slam to Prowl's desk and it caused the tactician to stop what he was doing and pull the data pad from in front of his face. He eyed the red mech's hands first as if their very existence was desecrating his clean desk. Slowly he placed the data pad to his left before interlocking his hands and looking up.

"Sideswipe." He blandly stated instead of a traditional greeting. "I believe we discussed the importance of knocking to gain entry into one's office. Not storming in." Prowl corrected and Sideswipe blinked, his mouth opening a few good times before he shut it in favor of giving the second in command an unimpressed glare. "Now what did you want to tell me?" He added.

Sideswipe remained silent for a few more minutes and Prowl could see him debating if he was going to storm off and have someone else tell Prowl but finally the red mech huffed. "That mech. Jazz. He's not taking his rations. It's been two full cycles now. He's not touching them. I'm getting ready to shove them down his cheeky throat." Sideswipe growled but stopped giving a grin. "Well that's what Sunny suggest we do."

"Why isn't he accepting them?" Prowl asked leaning back in his chair and Sideswipe shrugged.

"Dunno." He shrugged again. "Maybe some sort of hunger strike? He's as insane as they come. Who knows what goes in that processor of his."

"That is illogical. He is injured." Prowl informed frowning. Sideswipe threw his arms out to the side.

"Yeah. Tell him that." He sighed again. "Whatever. I tried. I did it all without even speaking to him no matter what he said. Your turn." With that the red mech turned with his arms still above his head and walked out of Prowl's office. He watched the door to his office for a few more moments before turning his attention to the stack of reports that required his attention. With a long drawn out sigh he pulled himself out of his chair and made his way to deal with the situation.

…

Jazz was flat on his back with one leg crossed over the other as he examined his arm, now with the plating replaced. He twitched the fingers, watching the claws specifically as if he was particularly displeased about something.

"I see you fixed your arm." Prowl announced his presence the second he walked into the room and saw the spy on the berth. Jazz turned his head to the mech, visor glowing redder for a moment before simply grunting. Unused to the response from such a usually talkative Jazz, Prowl paused only for a second before closing the distance to the bars. He held up a single cube of energon for Jazz to see.

"I brought you your ration." He informed Jazz when he refused to move from his spot on the berth. Jazz watched him before letting his head fall straight as if something on the ceiling was far more interesting.

"I ain't touchin' that." He replied and Prowl could already feel a huge processor ache coming along and for the first time Prowl wanted to lose his calm.

"I don't understand."

"There's nothin' to understand. I. ain't. touchin'. that." He returned punctuating his words as if Prowl either couldn't hear him or was a tad bit slow. Prowl let a frown fall on his faceplates which seemed to be a recurring thing when he found himself in the spy's presence.

"Your body needs the energy." He deadpanned.

The spy remained looking up. "Yep."

"I have energon in my hand…" He tried.

"I see that." Jazz responded and the urge to either hurl the cube at the spy head or toss his arms up and admit defeat and have someone else deal with Jazz was almost too tempting to pass up. Finally Prowl sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"You are being entirely irrational." He moaned and Jazz snorted, sitting up and leaning on one elbow to meet Prowl's optics.

"Mech… What part of me seems rational to ya?" Prowl sighed louder this time.

"I have a lot of work that I need to do. I don't have time to sit here and argue with you." Jazz once again laughed.

"Sounds like a personal problem to meh." He purred and once again Prowl found his fingers clenching the cube to restrain himself from once again hurling it at Jazz. He glared at Jazz and was greeted with his smug grin. He felt like he had missed something very important.

"You are,"

"Illogical." Jazz cut in with a cheekier grin. He fell back off of his elbows. "ah know." He tapped the top of his head right beside his visor and just below his audio horn. "Try to think like meh. Ya might find a solution to yer problems." He finished and Prowl felt himself frowning even more. He sighed for the umpteenth time since being in the brig before turning on his heels and walking out of the brig. Instead of going straight to his office like he normally would have, Prowl took a detour.

…..

"You don't look injured." Ratchet growled in mid turn as the door to his domain opened with a hiss and a very irritated second in command. He stormed in anyway, past the irate medic to one of the medical berths before sitting down on it with a rumble. Slowly he lowered his head into his hands. Ratchet grunted, placing his hands on his hips as he approached Prowl. "You look like you are going to crash." He observed with what seemed like a lack of compassion.

"That is because I most likely am…" He grumbled with a heavy exhale and another groan. "If I keep dealing with that insufferable spy." He added under his breath but Ratchet heard it.

"What did that glitch do to set you off Prowl? You're usually good about handling that battle computer of yours." He asked and Prowl just looked up at the medic.

"What hasn't he done?" Prowl snarled and Ratchet chuckled.

"True. Specifically though." He asked.

"Refueling. He's completely refusing all rations. I don't understand why." Prowl informed and the frustration was very apparent on the mech.

"Well when he goes into stasis we'll pump him full of energon. Easy fix." Ratchet shrugged. Prowl huffed air out of his vents.

"A temporary one."

"Well yes." Ratchet agreed. "Still if that's the only reason setting you off perhaps you should avoid contact with him entirely. Wait for Optimus?" Ratchet suggested and Prowl shook his head.

"No that's not the only thing that's going to make me crash. He said that I need to think like him to solve my issues? I can't even begin to fathom what he means by that." He grunted rubbing where his chevron was.

"Yes." Ratchet deadpanned. "because we need our second in command running around like a sociopathic lunatic that likes to blow things up. Fantastic."

"Hey, I see nothing wrong with that." A voice from behind them piped in and Ratchet swiveled around, wrench in hand only to stop at the sight of Bumblebee. He gave a cheery wave and only then did Ratchet notice that his other arm was a charred stump of flickering wires. Ratchet frowned further and pointed to the berth that was directly to Prowl's left.

"Sit." He commanded and Bumblebee nodded with a still nervous grin.

"Yes Ratchet." He muttered as he quickly scurried into the room and took a sit beside the tactician. He gave him a cheery wave. "Hey Prowl!" Prowl nodded in return choosing not to say anything as Ratchet stopped just before them, this time pointing wrench directly inches away from Prowl's nasal ridge. He watched as it bounced up and down suddenly wishing he didn't come and bother the apparently irritated medic.

"You are taking the rest of the day off and getting some much needed recharge." Ratchet barked and Prowl sat up and his door wings hiked up instantly.

"My reports!" He began but was silence by a single glare.

"I don't care about your stupid reports. If I catch you so much as thinking of looking at any of those reports I will pull rank so fast you won't know what hit you. You can miss one cycle of work, because if you crash it will be a lot longer." The medic growled and Prowl's entire body actually slumped. Bumblebee took a single glance between the two before giving the Second in command a pitying smile. He waved his still good hand.

"Don't worry about your reports. I'm likely off any sort of missions for a little bit. I can handle them for you." The yellow mech piped in and before Prowl could even say anything Ratchet cut him off.

"There. Solution found ." He pointed the wrench closer to Prowl. "And I don't even want to hear any of your complaints because you are an obsessive twit. I can always ask the twins to help out with the reports?"

"No… no. Bumblebee is fine." Prowl cut in far too quickly causing the medic to grin rather wickedly. He sighed. "Thank you Bumblebee. I do appreciate it."

"Anytime Prowl. We all need help at some point." He smiled waving the mech off. Ratchet huffed and turned.

"Now that's settled. You two sit put while I hopefully find a replacement part for you Bumblebee. Prowl." The medic punctuated this statement with a particularly harsh glare that Prowl felt he didn't necessarily deserve. "and when I come back Prowl I intend to sedate you to give that processor of yours a chance to cool down." He informed the tactician before turning and stalking away. Prowl watched him leave stoic on the outside but planning an escape route in his mind. Beside him, Bumblebee gave a seemingly sympathetic laugh.

"So Jazz." He began to gain Prowl's attention and the mech turned his head.

"Yes. Jazz." He agreed with a withering look that caused Bumblebee to chuckle slightly which only served to further confuse Prowl.

"Yeah. You know." He paused. "When you think about it. He kinda makes sense in a nonsense sorta way." Bumblebee put out there and Prowl quickly swiveled his head to get a better look at the yellow mech to see if he had fully lost it. In return, Bumblebee raised his one still present hand to his chest in a plead to get Prowl hear him out.

" He wants you to think like him. So think like him. He's a saboteur." Bumblebee pause to laugh. "Compare him to ours. We know how spazzy they can be. More importantly he's a Decepticon." He motioned with his hands as if he wanted Prowl to connect the dots. Prowl's frown deepened as he ran the scenario.

"He's not refueling. Why would he do that?" Bumblebee continued.

"He's not suicidal…" Prowl began but this time he was talking to himself. Bumblebee watched and he could practically see the thought process going on. Suddenly Prowl's optics widened as something very important dawn on him. "Jazz is paranoid. He believes the energon to have something in it." Prowl shook his head. "I said that the Autobot's don't believe in torture as a form of integration so he thinks that I will resort to other means." Ratchet chose that moment to enter, holding several tools that he carefully placed to the side. He turned to Prowl giving the mech a once over, noticing that he seemed a whole lot less stressed. He gave the yellow mech a knowing smirk.

"Are you ready Prowl?" Ratchet asked and the second in command gave a nod.

"I believe I am."

….

It took Prowl a whole cycle after he had visited Ratchet for him to finally make his way down to the brig. Upon his instructions, nobody had entered the brig leaving Jazz to his own devices. He walked slowly, cube in hand along with something else neatly tucked away under his arm. He nodded to the young mech that stood rather stiffly at the locked door. He saluted quickly and stepped to the side, allowing Prowl access to the key pad that would open the heavy metal door. It hissed open and automatically the emergency lights kicked on thanks to Red Alert who was watching through the cameras.

Jazz didn't move with the sudden lights. He was lying flat on his back on the metal berth with one knee bent and the other leg resting on top of it. Prowl entered the room, already feeling unease skitter across his plates due to the spy's sudden docile nature. He held up the cube of energon and Jazz turned his head slightly eying up the offered drink briefly before turned his head back to stare at the ceiling.

Prowl expected this and took the cube, pulling it slowly up to his lips and taking a long drink from it, tilting his head so that Jazz could see the liquid going down. Just as slowly he pulled it away and was greeted with a much more alert Jazz who was now sitting up on his elbows with his usually crooked grin blatantly slapped across his features. Prowl approached the bars and Jazz fell back before kicking his legs out and using the momentum to flip off the berth. He practically skipped to where Prowl was standing and even when he stopped he didn't stay still. He kept bouncing from foot to foot as Prowl typed in the security code that would open the bars just enough so that the cube would fit through.

"Tha wasn't so hard now was it?" Jazz practically purred as he took the cube that was offered and downing it without wasting any time at all. Prowl watched him.

"You would have starved yourself into stasis lock on the suspicion that I would poison you?" Prowl stated more to himself and not expecting Jazz to actually answer. The spy looked up, crushing the cube into nonexistence. His visor flickered slightly.

"Yup. Been there. Done that. Ain't gettin' poisoned again." He stated while shifting around, liking how the energon felt as it entered his systems. He grinned wider, showing denta. "Mech you don't know how good that feels."

"Your assumption is illogical. Deactivating you would not help me at the moment." He informed the spy and Jazz laughed, shaking his head.

"Prowler. There are other poisons that do more interestin' stuff then just killin' a mech." He informed Prowl. The tactician frowned for a moment before frowning even harder.

"Prowl." He stated and Jazz stopped and tilted his head to the side.

"What?"

"My designation is Prowl. Not Prowler." He corrected. Jazz smirked.

"I know that."

"Then why do you call me Prowler?" Prowl asked with general curiosity. Jazz's smirk grew wider.

"Cause its ya. You're kinda creepy there mech. So Prowler suits ya." He informed Prowl who was unsure of whether or not he should take that as an insult considering who was telling him he was creepy. Jazz must have known what he was thinking because he laughed louder, waving the mech off with one hand.

"Don think too much about it, Prowler." He paused seemingly noticing the flat board like item that was tucked away under the second in commands arm. He pointed at it, leaning his face closer to the bars. "Wha's that mech. Bring little ol' me a gift?" He prodded and Prowl removed the board from his arm and held it up for the mech to see.

"Something to pass the time." He began. "Considering that you are adamant of not explaining what you were doing in our vent system." Prowl paused and Jazz took a moment to look over the item, realizing that it was an old war game where one would move the pieces in attempted at concurring the opponents army. It was a logic game. A tactician's game.

"I figured I could make it more interesting for you." Prowl continued and this perked Jazz's interest more than the game.

"Did ya now?" He grinned. "Tell meh more." Prowl nodded.

"Stakes of a sort."

"Ya don't seem like a bettin' type of mech Prowler. To unpredictable for ya." Jazz explained.

"That is because I am not. You on the other hand seem to be." He tested and Jazz gave a chuckle.

"I like tha risk." Jazz took a seat on the floor and continued to look up and Prowl. "What're the stakes ma mech?" Prowl joined Jazz on the floor, the game between them.

"If you win Jazz. You get to ask me one question about anything and no matter what I will have to answer it. Same if I win." Prowl explained. Jazz sat back. "So tell me Jazz. Do you accept?" A rather malicious smile found its way upon Jazz's face.

"Set up tha board and get ready to loosen those lips." Prowl raised a single optic ridge at that.

"I highly doubt you will beat me." Jazz snorted at that, watching as Prowl activated the board. It hummed slightly before the holoform pieces flickered to life.

Jazz took the first move and it was nothing like what Prowl had predicted. It didn't surprise him though, and he countered accordingly. Jazz watched the board before reaching through the bars and moved yet again in a way that almost didn't make any sense, leaving some of his more important pieces exposed. Prowl took the moment to capture one of those pieces to prove a point, not realizing that it was a trap until after he had moved. He watched as two of his game pieces flickered out of existence courtesy of Jazz. A door wing twitched out of interest. He had underestimated Jazz.

A soft sound distracted Prowl and he paused all movements, optics roaming the room. It almost sounded like…

"It's music mech. Don' go all paranoid on meh." Jazz answered, not removing his visor from the game board. Prowl frowned.

"I realize. Where is it coming from?" He asked and Jazz looked up.

"Meh." He answered moving a piece and returning his attention back to Prowl who looked rather perplexed. Jazz stretched and turned slightly, giving Prowl a good view of his hip which housed several speakers. Prowl nodded but didn't understand why a saboteur such as Jazz would need speakers. He thought about asking but decided against it.

"Do ya like music?" Jazz asked and Prowl took a moment to think about it.

"On occasion." He answered. Jazz nodded and the music's volume increased ever so slightly.

"Does it bother ya?" Jazz stated after a long period of silent. Prowl frowned, thinking that the spy was regarding the music.

"Your music? No." He replied and Jazz snorted shaking his head as he watched one of his pieces flicker off the board.

"Tha rumors?" He continued and Prowl met Jazz visor.

"You are being vague on purpose." He accused and Jazz gave a single quiet laugh. He didn't deny it though.

"They call ya a drone Prowler. Say you deleted all emotions. Prime's pet computer. Does it bother ya?" He continued as he countered Prowl's move.

"What your fellows say about me affects me none." Jazz smirked at that.

"I didn' hear it from no Decepticon." Jazz enlightened leaning in ever so slightly and watching the generally stoic face for any reaction. Prowl remained quiet as he studied the board. Jazz remained patiently quiet and still.

"I have become whatever the Autobot army needs me to be." Prowl paused. "If they see me as nothing but a drone then so be it." Prowl remained silent, leaving his answer as that. Jazz tilted his head to the side.

"Ya'd let them change ya?" He gave a cruel laugh. "Sounds like you're more prisoner than me."

"Perhaps… What about you Jazz? They say you are a monster." He began watching as Jazz moved his piece. His visor seemed to darken slightly. He remained still.

"I am a monsta." This time he grinned and it was a wicked cruel smile that unnerved Prowl to the spark. "Ya gonna try to convince me otherwise. Tell me ahm not. Then we hug dramatically and live happily eva after?"

"I don't believe in 'happily after ever." Prowl informed him. "and no. It would be illogical for me to accuse you of being a monster or otherwise. I know very little about you."

"I am a nightmare. There ain't a mech that don't fear meh."

"Even Megatron?" Prowl asked and Jazz once again snorted.

"S'pose he don't. He don't fear nothin'. Old Megs don't like meh though." Jazz informed Prowl and this caught Prowl off guard.

"Explain?" Prowl asked still not taking his eyes off of the game board. He took his turn then looked back to the spy.

"Cause unlike you mech. ahm not what my side wants me to be. Ahm free. Megs hates meh cause he can't control meh."

"Interesting." Prowl stated looking at Jazz not entirely sure why the spy was telling him this. He expected ulterior motives but could think of none at the moment. Jazz gave his lopsided smirk.

"I told ya Prowler." He spread his arms out jokingly. "Ahm an interestin mech." He purred before looking back to the board. He frowned and pursed his lips. "Can't move anymore." He stated looking to Prowl. Prowl looked at the board and nodded.

"Neither can I."

"Stalemate." Jazz grunted and he actually seemed slightly disgruntle about it. "Wha'd we do? Partial answers?" He asked and Prowl nodded.

"Partial answers." He agreed still looking at the game with surprise. Not the outcome he was expecting but he could work with it.

"I'll go first." Prowl stated expecting Jazz to protest but the spy didn't. "What were you doing in our vent system?" He asked and Jazz smirked.

"I expected ya to ask that mech. I was lookin for Prime." Jazz answered and Prowl nodded. Now he knew what Jazz was doing but he still didn't know why. "Mah turn. Where's Prime?"

"In Keon." He answered and Jazz nodded his head chuckling.

"Right under our noses. Big mech's sneaky." Jazz smirked to himself rubbing his chin. He turned his visor to Prowl still with a rather cheeky smirk on his features before giving a rather dramatic stretch before falling on his back. Prowl watched half expecting his knees to graze the charged bars. They didn't.

"I appreciate keeping your side of the agreement Jazz." Prowl stated and Jazz nodded from his position on the floor. Prowl stood and took a moment to dust of his legs even though there was no dust.

"Hey, sociopath like meh has to have some redeemin' qualities. Otherwise I'd be all sorts a no fun." He paused and Prowl could tell he was frowning by the way his lips quirked. "but don think ahm nice. Ahm not nice."

"Yes. Of course." Prowl reassured and Jazz suddenly sat up looking at the board which had powered down after their game.

"Ahm up for another round Prowler. Wanna go again?" The spy asked and Prowl actually took a moment to think about it. Sadly or as sad as Prowl could look considering his stoic tendencies he shook his head.

"Perhaps next visit. I am unfortunately otherwise soon to be engaged." He informed the spy and Jazz flopped back down with a huff. He looked like he was pouting.

"What? You're social quota filled fer the day?" Jazz asked and Prowl was unsure if he was teasing or not. He remained emotionless.

"Yes. Not to mention the rather intimidating stack of data pads that has been threatening my wellbeing." He answered with a serious tone and it was Jazz's turn to wonder if the mech was joking. He gave a smooth laugh anyway and waved the mech away with a shooing motion.

"Go be borin Prowler." He dismissed him and Prowl nodded unaffected by something that normally would have seemed so rude had it been anyone else.

"Until next time Jazz." He added as he gathered his game and walked out of the room. The lights faded leaving Jazz in the dark leaving his visor the only thing illuminated. Just how he liked it. He looked around his brig and stood, preparing to go through the long process of escaping because he had technically completed his mission. He had found where Prime had gone off too, if Prowl was telling the truth that is. He paced for a moment before a rather strange expression crossed his face. It quickly morphed into a rather sinister smirk.

"Nah." He said in the dark as he sat back on the berth and waited.

_Author's note: Review please? :3_


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's note- One cycle is the equivalent of one day._

3

Bluestreak entered the firing range, cube in hand and a rather cheery demeanor displayed on his features. He quickly located Prowl who was often found here when in the rare occasion he grew tired of his office. He passed Ironhide, the red mech gave him a gruff smile before uttering a swift,

"Hey kid." Bluestreak returned the greeting but for once did not stop to chat. He was on a mission. Prowl remained stiff in his posture as he fired a few rounds. It seemed that the second in command was completely oblivious to his surroundings but Bluestreak knew otherwise. Paranoia came hand in hand with being promoted as a higher officer, it seemed. With everyone out to kill you and what not.

Bluestreak remained silent for once and stood off to the right, behind Prowl as he waited for the mech to unload his clip. It wasn't a long wait and when Prowl was finished he took his customary step back holding his gun up, finger off the trigger.

"Bluestreak." He greeted as he removed the spent clip. The addressed mech grinned slightly, his optics wandering to the target that was practically obliterated. So Prowl had been at this for a while, most likely to blow off some much accumulated stress.

"Hello sir. I brought you a cube of energon because I haven't seen you in the rec room for a good while and that made me realize that you probably haven't refuel in a while. That's not good. You know what Ratchet would say if he found out. Scary…. Scary medic." Bluestreak drifted of before holding the cube up for Prowl to take which he did quite graciously.

"It has been a while since I refuel. Thank you. I appreciate this." He admitted as took a long needed sip.

"You're welcome. I guess that Decepticon had been keeping you all tied up?"

"Yes. Jazz is a lot of work." Prowl answered as he subspaced his blaster and began walking out of the firing range with Bluestreak walking beside him. "but I'm making progress with him." He added and this caught the younger mech's attention.

"Are you? That's great! It must be difficult. I can only imagine how intimidating it is to be trapped in such a small room with a well-known killer.

"Yes. He is…. different. Rather difficult actually." Prowl muttered and Bluestreak looked to him and almost felt sorry for the mech but stopped knowing that if anyone was able to do this, it was Prowl.

"So… Has he told you anything?" He asked and Prowl slowly nodded.

"Yes." He paused wagering if he should tell the younger mech. "I managed to obtain his objective." At this Bluestreak perked up, his doorwings lifting but stopped at how almost conflicted Prowl looked. The second in command sighed. "Not in a manner I would have liked though. At the cost of some information." He admitted and Bluestreak could tell that Prowl was not entirely pleased with himself. He smiled.

"Hey. That's great Prowl. Really great. Nobody thought anyone would be able to get anything from that crazy mech. You did what you had to do. We all trust you. You've never steered us wrong before." He reassured Prowl and though the mech would never admit it, he needed the moral boost. He nodded.

"Yes. I do believe the benefit greatly outweighs the risk."

"Yep. And besides Prowl. What's he going to do with the information? It's not like Jazz is going to get out anytime soon. Not with Red's security system." Once again Prowl found himself nodding.

"The likelihood of him escaping is very slim and if he does seem to beat the odds then the chance of him making it actually out of the base is slimmer." Prowl informed Bluestreak just as he stopped outside of his quarters, slowly entering the rather long and complicated code. "Now if you'll excuse me. I am going to recharge." He informed and Bluestreak gave a lighthearted wave.

"Enjoy! You deserve it."

….

Jazz was bored. He was very bored and it irritated him. He paced his cell, close enough to the bars to feel the singe from charge dance across his plating. It made him antsy or rather antsier and he could not help to stifle the low growl from turning into a full throated roar.

This was Prowl's fault or at least the saboteur believed it to be. He had yet to visit him and it had been almost two cycles if Jazz's chronometer was correct. He snarled again and turned hastily on his heels as he clenched his claws hard enough to cause a slight pain in his palms. Jazz tensed again, fully preparing to break out of the cell and cause a rather dramatic 'scene' that would teach Prowl to never leave him alone for so long again, when the doors to the brig snapped open. He perked up, finding his mood suddenly lifting before he caught sight of who had come to bring him his ration. It wasn't Prowl. For the second time now. He found himself glaring viciously and wanting so desperately to reach through the bars and crush this unknown Autobot. Slowly he let his visor deactivate, and Jazz practically dissolved into the low light.

"You recharging, con?" The Autobot snarled into the dark as he held the cube out. He was answered by only silence and that gave him enough confidence to approach the bars. He smirked. "You ain't so scary." He muttered more for his own benefit now that he thought that Jazz wasn't awake. He turned around to survey the room, his back to the bars and that was all Jazz needed.

Far faster than anyone could have possible expected, Jazz shot his arms out, through the bars and latching his claws around the Autobot's helm. He yanked back and hard, so that the charged bars burned deep gauges into the Autobot's back. He squirmed and fought but Jazz stopped him by squeezing hard enough to dent metal and cause sparks to shoot from the side of his helm. He stilled and Jazz tutted with his tongue.

"Now tell meh my mech…. Who ain't so scary? Was that what ya were sayin'? I ain't scary?" Jazz purred in a deep whisper far too close to the mech's audios and the only answer the spy received was a terrified whimper that might have been words at some point or at least attempted ones. Jazz laughed, a dark deep rumble that filled the air. With a gentleness that was concerning, Jazz moved one hand down, claw tracing the energon lines just under the Autobot's chin. He practically quivered out of fear and a new stream of whimpering and desperate pleas fell out of his lips. Jazz didn't hear them though and dug into the metal, drawing energon.

"ah bet yer really sorry. Right bot?" Jazz drawled and the mech nodded as much as Jazz grip allow him to and it was such a desperate movement. Jazz smirked, his visor illuminated slowly casting an eerie red on the mech before him. "Thought so." He rumbled again nodding to himself. "Now… there's several way this could go down bot. Ah could entertain mah self by pickin' apart that processor of yours? Which would be really messy. All the fine components an what not." He paused. "Or," He perked up sounding far too please with himself. "Ya can do meh a little favor." The mech stilled even further and Jazz could see his blue optics straining to see behind him. Jazz found humor in this.

"Ya like livin' right mech?" Jazz asked and when the Autobot didn't immediately answer him he began to slowly apply pressure coupled with a magnetic pulse that came from his hand. It was pure agony and the mech opened his mouth in a soundless agonized scream that stopped when Jazz ceased the pulse.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes." He streamed out frantically, desperately clinging to the thought that if he complied with the sociopath, he would make it out. He felt Jazz shift.

"Good. Now ah need ya to do meh a favor. Ya got that?" Another squeeze had the mech hastily nodding hoping that it would satisfy the spy. It did surprisingly. "Ah need to speak with Prowl. Get 'im. Now." With that Jazz released the Autobot and he stumbled to the ground, back still sizzling from where he was pressed up against the bars. It didn't take him long to scrabble up to his feet and clumsily fall out of the brig and to what he thought was safety. Jazz gave a toothy grin, oddly satisfied with himself as he moved back to sit on the berth and wait.

…..

"Prowl. If you don't answer your com right now so help me." Prowl groaned, rolling over at the sound of a particularly angry medic filtered into his audios and woke him. He huffed, taking a moment to realize that he hadn't been recharging very long before he let his helm fall back onto the berth.

"Prowl." Ratchet growled and normally Prowl would have answered right away but the last time he had recharged was in said medic care and two cycles was a very long time for any bot to go without recharge. Said medic would have yelled at him if he had found out but now he was yelling at him for an entirely different reason.

"PROWL." Ratchet continued sounding far angrier, though Prowl wasn't entirely sure how that was plausible. Instead of answering he shifted his weight so that he was more comfortable, weighing the consequences of what would happen if he said slag it all and let them take care of whatever the situation was.

"IF you don't come down to my med bay and see what the twice damn Decepticon did to one of our mechs.." He growled again leaving the threat hanging. Prowl frowned, pulling his body so that he was resting on his elbows. Decepticon? Prowl groaned into the empty room.

Jazz.

It could only be Jazz. Of course. Who else would be responsible? Prowl placed his fingers on the com and anwered.

"I'm here Ratchet." He sounded tired even to his own audios. Ratchet snorted.

"Finally. Were you recharging?" The medic asked and Prowl shook his head to clear his thoughts.

"Yes."

"Well too bad. So was I." He grunted and Prowl took a moment to appreciate how spiteful Ratchet could be when he had to deal with someone else's stupidity. "Get down to my med bay now. You'll want to see this." With that the medic disconnected leaving Prowl to sit in the dark of his own quarter silently cursing a certain spy's general existence.

….

"Hey there Prowler!" Jazz greeted from his position on the berth and though Prowl's face didn't show it, he was glaring rather viciously at the Spy. He didn't answer at first but instead walked into the brig and began to set up a small table and chair that was leaning upon one of the walls. He plopped down a rather impressive stack of data pads on the small table before moving in and sliding Jazz's ration through the bars, not before taking a sip to show the spy it was not poisoned. Jazz watched him the entire time, even as he moved away and sat down all with his cheeky grin still in place. Prowl though, continued to ignore his presence.

"Ya seem a littl' irritated there mech." Jazz tried showing teeth in a full on, rather sadistic grin. Prowl looked up from his work.

"You injured and Autobot not too long ago." He growled.

"Yep. I did." Jazz responded and there was absolutely no remorse shown on the spy's face. This irritated Prowl further but he hid it well.

"You did a lot of damage to his processor. His motor functions will be suffering for a good while." Jazz shrugged.

"He insulted meh. Then turned his back to meh. He shoulda known better." Jazz replied instantly turning the blame on the injured mech.

"He was a rookie." Prowl toned in, struggling to keep his voice even. Jazz snorted.

"Shouldn't of sent 'im in."

"I didn't. I made it quite clear that only certain mechs could deliver your rations. Somewhere along the line someone delegated his responsibilities." Now Prowl had lost control of his temper for only a brief moment and he stopped, exhaling through his vents loudly before picking up the nearest data pad and turning it on. He didn't even try to read the words but instead remained staring at them, hoping that his optics would focus on them. Jazz remained still, watching him.

"I didn't kill em." He stated and Prowl sighed.

"No." Prowl responded feeling as if Jazz was trying to tell him something important. He placed the data pad down.

"ah could've. ah could've done a lot worse." He told Prowl and he frowned. Jazz remained silent just looking at Prowl. Jazz could have done a lot worse and Prowl knew it. Usually when Jazz was involved survivors were never found. "But I didn't" He continued and Prowl gave a moment to collect his temper.

"That doesn't change the fact that you assaulted an Autobot and managed to cause processor trauma that will keep that mech in the med bay for an undisclosed period of time."

"Ya shouldn't of left meh alone for so long. I got bored." Prowl stopped all movement and looked at the spy as if he couldn't believe what had just came out of Jazz's mouth. He got bored. He got bored so he hurt the closest thing he could get his claws on. Prowl blinked. Primus forbid that this monster ever got out of his cell.

Slower than he had ever moved, Prowl reached down and wrapped his fingers around a data pad, bringing it up to his face again. He chose not to pay attention to Jazz. Not to give the sociopath the satisfaction of him acknowledging his action. It was hard because the only thing he could think of at that moment was the mech lying in the med bay saying his name. Now he knew why.

Jazz remained silent after that just watching as Prowl actually began to work, slowly scrolling through the data pad until he was able to get to his regular pace. As he continued and got to his second data pad he was almost able to fool himself that the brig was his office. Just a darker, more depressing place with an insane mech only held back by a single row of bars. It could have been worse.

"Are ya ignorin' meh?" Jazz asked after a considerable time passed and the spy sat up with his head cocked to the side visor glowing brighter. Prowl didn't answer him, didn't even acknowledge his presence. Jazz's grin fell into a firm tight line.

"Mech?" Again no response. Jazz pursed his lips. "Prowler." Still nothing. "Prowler?" Said mech placed the data pad down and at this Jazz perked up only to have his hopes dashed as he picked up a different one. Jazz visibly deflated.

"Come on Prowler…. Ain't this a bit immature?" Still nothing and this time Jazz stood up, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowled.

"Prowl?" He sat back down with a rather audible thump. "Are ya mad at meh? Cause I ain't sayin' sorry. Nope. Not happenin'." He waited then stood up again and began to pace. Prowl did nothing except divert all of his attention to his work.

"So this is what yer gonna do. Sit here ta torment meh." Now Jazz sounded actually angry. He growled as he paced close to the bars. Now Prowl responded, knowing full well that he should have just continued to ignore the mech but the sudden change in the spy's demeanor unnerved Prowl in a way he could not describe.

"I am not sitting here to "torment" you Jazz. Evidently you cannot be left alone otherwise you find a way to do the Autobots harm. I on the other hand, have a substantial amount of work to do and cannot afford to spend all of my time revolving around you. So this," and now Prowl gestured to his makeshift desk. "Is the only logical solution I could come up with at the moment." Prowl finished and Jazz just looked at him for a moment without moving.

"Ya sound mad?" Jazz informed and Prowl huffed.

"I am not-" He began but stopped. He did indeed sound furious which was out of the norm for him. Even when dealing with some of the more 'immature' mechs at their worst he still remained with an air of calm collected Prowl. Jazz quirked his head and Prowl deflated looking slightly defeated. He had let the spy get to him without even realizing it. How Jazz managed to get under his plating, Prowl was unsure.

"Ya look like slag too, Prowler. When's the last time ya recharged?" He asked and Prowl was taken back by the sudden concern. He was too tired to try and decipher a second motive at the moment.

"I am…" Prowl paused. "Tired." He hated to admit it but the stress of taking over for Prime and retaining his tactician duties was starting to wear thin on the mech. "I was in the middle of trying to recharge when I got a rude awakening." Prowl admitted and Jazz caught on immediately. He gave a sheepish chuckle.

"Ah. No wonder why ya looked like ya wanted to rip mah helm off. Oops." Jazz stated and it was probably the closest apology that Prowl would have gotten from the spy. Prowl nodded ever so slightly which seemed to encourage Jazz. "Hey. Ya know what?" Prowl looked up. "Ya can always recharge here." He offered and this time Prowl could only respond by looking at Jazz as if he had lost what little sanity still remained.

"Where?" He deadpanned and Jazz hopped to the side, showcasing his very uncomfortable berth with a classy wave of his hands.

"ah don't bite too hard Prowler. We can snuggle up all close like. I'd be fun." He suggested and the frown that graced Prowl's features was rather impressive.

"No." Jazz laughed.

"You're loss mech." He teased and Prowl continued to just stare at Jazz.

"I think I can live with that." He intoned and at this Jazz huffed through his vents as he stifled a laugh. Jazz smirked as he sat down with a thump. He leaned back, folding his arms back behind his head and resting on the wall. Prowl watched him before turning back to his work.

Jazz let him work for a good while, watching Prowl's face and noticing just how exhausted he looked. He smirked slightly to himself as he pulled his body up and off of the berth without the second in command noticing. He walked to a corner where he knew there was a blind spot in the camera.

Prowl gave a low rumbling sigh as he pulled his work down away from his face and took a moment to rub his optics with one hand in hopes of simply wiping away the exhaustion. He gave up, resolving to give the spy his full attention when he noticed something odd and highly impossible. The cell was empty. Prowl blinked and felt his very spark flare in alarm.

He went to stand, almost knocking the chair down with his sudden momentum but his movement was ceased as the very tips of his doorwings brushed against the form of something or more important, someone standing beside him. Prowl went to turn in a poor attempt at defending his vulnerable back but stopped as he felt two hands wrap on either side of his face.

Jazz laughed.

Prowl went stock still, cursing his lack of attention and false sense of security.

"Nighty Night, Prowler." Jazz purred and all Prowl heard after that was a slight hum before something seemed to short out and his entire body powered down into an emergency recharge. Prowl's body went to drop but Jazz shuffled his weight, catching the second in command just under his arms. He held him for a minute before gently settling him in his chair.

Jazz grinned as he paced around the second in command, leaning in so that he was inches away from the mech's face. He lifted his clawed hand out and snapped his fingers just before Prowl's blank optics. His grin grew.

…..

"Bluestreak, are you there?" Red Alert commed and said mech jumped slightly at the sudden burst of noise. He was propped high above a crate in the shooting range, finger resting on the trigger of a very large sniper rifle. He ceased his actions and pulled his face away from the scope.

"Hey Red! What's up?" He answered. He heard Red Alert pause which was unusual for the security director. This unnerved Bluestreak.

"Is Prowl with you or do you know where he is at the moment?" He asked and Bluestreak looked around. He did not see Prowl. He twitched his doorwings feeling more anxiety creeping under his plating. Something wasn't right.

"No. I haven't seen him in a while. What's going on? Is he alright? Why are you asking?" Bluestreak began to ramble but stopped himself. One question at a time, he tried to tell himself. Don't overwhelm the security director.

"It seems I've had a security camera malfunction in the brig, section c. I'm currently blind. I've also tried hailing Prowl. No answer."

Jazz's cell. Bluestreak felt the fuel in his lines practically freeze and he found himself standing up suddenly, abandoning his rifle without even thinking.

"I was requesting that you investigate. Everyone else who has clearance is otherwise engaged and unable to." Red Alert asked and Bluestreak could only wonder how Red Alert could be so calm.

"I'm on it!" He practically yelled as he rushed out of the room, despite the looks he received by the fellow Autobots at the firing range. He all but ran, unable to move fast enough to the brig.

Please be alright. He couldn't help but think as he rushed past the normal traffic through the hallways.

Not Prowl.

Anyone but Prowl.

Prowl was all he had left.

Bluestreak skid to a stop, his fingers fumbling on the keypad, wishing he could input it faster. The door began to open and Bluestreak squeezed through before it had fully opened.

Jazz turned his head, visor practically twinkling with curiosity from his position on the berth. Bluestreak examined the cell and nothing appeared to be wrong or out of place. Jazz watched him silently, not bothering to get up or move the cube of energon that was precariously balanced on his knee.

Bluestreak turned, just then noticing Prowl who was sitting at a makeshift desk, face first with several data pads stacked around him. He even had one curled in his hand.

"What did you do to him!" Bluestreak accused as he rushed to Prowl, instantly feeling if he was still functioning. By all appearances it looked as if Prowl had fallen into recharge. He turned his attention back to Jazz who looked amused.

"Ah didn't do nothin' little mech." He smirked. "Prowler fell asleep on meh. Guess ahm just that entertaining." He added and Bluestreak turned to Prowl, placing a hand on his back. Jazz tilted his helm to the side, and examined Bluestreak, specifically the heavy intakes he was taking.

"You're scared, little mech but you ain't scare o meh." Jazz observed and Bluestreak whipped his head to meet Jazz's stare. "Nah." He continued. "You're scared for Prowler." A snorted laugh and Jazz leaned back down. "What is he to ya?" He asked.

"He's my friend… He's all I got left and if you hurt him…" Bluestreak paused catching his slip up. "I shouldn't be talking to you." He added as an afterthought and Jazz gave a small grin and a gentle chuckle.

"No need little mech. Ah didn't hurt im. How could ah?" He asked gesturing to the cell around him and Bluestreak stood straight, standing before Prowl as if to protect him as he approached the bars.

"You're Jazz." He stated as if that was explanation enough and it was. Jazz found humor in this and gave a teasing half smile at Bluestreak.

"Ah am. But who are ya?" He asked and the mech before him fidgeted as if debating whether he should tell the spy or not.

"Bluestreak." He answered, general manors winning over apprehension. At the name Jazz perked up and looked generally interested now.

"The sniper? Mech. You are one pit of a shot. Yer younger than I woulda expected." Jazz stated and Bluestreak was unsure of how to feel with the compliment coming from Jazz.

Prowl stirred suddenly at the conversation, sitting up and looking around, obviously disorientated. He looked to Jazz, then to Bluestreak and was sobered instantly. He stood, doorwings hitched high above his back.

"Mornin' sunshine! Took ya long enough to get up. Passin out on meh like that." Jazz spoke and Bluestreak turned to Prowl, looking scared.

"Please step away from the bars Bluestreak." Prowl commanded sharply and he did just that taking a step beside Prowl to make sure he was okay. The second that Bluestreak was away from Jazz, Prowl eased considerably and took a moment to try and figure out what happened.

He remembered sitting at his makeshift desk, looking at a data pad before…. Nothing. He couldn't remember anything after that.

"Are you alright, Prowl?" Bluestreak asked and he slowly nodded, his processor feeling sluggish.

"I believe I overworked myself…" He said uneasily. It was the only logical explanation he could come up with. It didn't feel right though.

"Let's get you to Ratchet. Get you checked up. Make sure nothing's wrong." Bluestreak suggested and Prowl actually complied. He walked slowly to the brig door.

"See ya Prowler. Blue." Jazz spoke from behind him. "Hope yer feelin better next visit." He added and that sentence caused Prowl to pause. Something wasn't right. Jazz did something but Prowl didn't know what or how. With that he left the brig and headed straight to the med bay with Bluestreak walking silently by his side.


	4. Chapter 4

4

Prowl sat in the med bay arms crossed over his chest as he watched Ratchet. He stood before the tactician with a data pad practically clenched in his hands. The medic grunted as he scrolled through the data, his usual scowl plastered on his face. Ratchet looked to Prowl, Bluestreak, then back to his data pad with his scowl growing into a look of just general irritation.

"I have scanned you three times. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Perhaps you just crashed." Ratchet droned out and Prowl stiffened, his wings rising in a clear display of unwillingness to accept his diagnosis.

"Are you certain?" Prowl pushed, his own scowl searching the medic. "You scanned everything?" He continued and Ratchet's optics narrowed into deadly slits that promised the tactician unimaginable pain.

"Yes. Prowl." He punctuated and the tone he used was usually enough to silence an entire crowd of rowdy mechs. Prowl however did not head the warning.

"I know what it feels like to crash. That was no crash." He insisted and Ratchet still looked rather unimpressed by the tactician's behavior. Prowl on the other hand stood to match the medic's height. He felt uneasy at the sudden loss of memory in a certain saboteur's company and wasn't willing to believe that there was nothing wrong with him.

"You overworked yourself. End of story." Ratchet growled and once again Prowl stood firm, growing defensive.

"I've gone far longer than that without any form of recharge and have been able to function perfectly fine. I'm sorry but I cannot believe that I simply 'overworked' myself Ratchet. It seems highly illogical." Ratchet huffed and crossed his arms over his chest giving Prowl a withering glare.

"Oh. Don't tell me that you honestly believe Jazz somehow fazed through charged bars and knocked you unconscious and even though he had the chance didn't escape?"

"Yes! He is…" Prowl defended but stopped before the words could escape his vocalizer. His optics widened quite suddenly and for the first time in a very, very long time, Prowl felt foolish. He was beginning to believe that Jazz, the Decepticon that everybody in the single base actively feared wasn't bound by general logic. That he wasn't bound by the very laws of physics…. That Jazz wasn't mortal.

A rather drowning sigh escaped the tactician's mouth as he placed a hand on his nasal ridge. He was being completely and totally irrational by believing the dark rumors that every single mech seemed to be avidly sharing about the 'ghost' that was currently held in the brig.

"I apologize. Perhaps I am overworked." Prowl paused and shook his head slowly. "I am being highly illogical." Prowl admitted and it was probably the hardest thing to say. If felt like broken glass exiting his mouth. Ratchet snorted, loudly.

"He's getting to you Prowl." The medic warned. "I've never in my entire time of working beside you, seen you so… bothered. You have interrogated countless Decepticons. Officers even. None of them have ever been able to get under your plating. What is he doing to you Prowl?" Ratchet asked and his irritated growl slowly morphed and turned soft as it showed Ratchet's actual concern. Prowl studied him but found no response. He wasn't one to give excuses and he knew that Ratchet was indeed correct. Jazz was getting to him. Ratchet shook his head at the lack of answer and turned to work on something behind him.

"You're not going to stop. I know you. You obsessive twit." Ratchet grunted out and Prowl's eyes narrowed at that statement but the medic continued after a loud huff. "Besides. I thought you might like to know that I have received word from Optimus. He's finishing up and should be back soon."

"Do we have an ETA?" Prowl intoned sounding a lot more excited or rather, as excited as Prowl could get. Ratchet seemed to find humor in this because he snorted again.

"For obvious security reasons." Ratchet muttered and Prowl slowly began to bob his head in a nod as he contemplated the information.

"Soundwave?" He asked..

"Is assumed to be in the area." Ratchet informed him taking a step to further fiddle with some more of his medical equipment that was conveniently in his proximity. Prowl grunted in confirmation. "At least with Optimus's imminent return you will only have to deal with our special guest for a little while longer." Ratchet added as an afterthought as he picked up a pile of fine tools and walked out of the room without a single word elsewise. Prowl watched him go and his optics narrowed at the thought. What would happen with Jazz when Optimus returned?

Bluestreak, who had remained uncharacteristicly quiet throughout the whole ordeal, mainly out of fear of Ratchet's unavoidable wrath, turn to Prowl in a silent plea to leave the med bay. As if reading his mind, Prowl gave a singular nod of his head and turned to the door.

"I'm going to finally recharge now." Prowl informed him the second the door had closed behind them and Bluestreak nodded with a pleasant smile.

"I think that's the best idea you could have come up with." He chirped with an easy going smile. "Shall I make sure nobody disturbs you then, Prowl?" He asked and Prowl seemed relieved at the aspect.

"Yes. I trust you to take care of my duties while I am otherwise engaged?" He asked even though he knew he really didn't need to.

"Of course. Anytime you need me. They don't call me your right hand mech for nothing." He joked and Prowl gave one of his rare smiles that seemed to be more of lip spasm than an actual expression.

"I appreciate it, Bluestreak. You are one of the very few mechs I would trust to carry out my job." He answered.

….

Jazz wasn't expecting any visitors anytime soon and the sound of the brig door hissing open brought him online instantly. He listened and knew immediately that this visitor wasn't Prowl. The gait was all wrong. This was a much smaller mech.

"Hey there, Meister." The stranger greeted and it was enough to cause Jazz stand with a graceful roll that had him hunched in a predatory crouch as practically glared at the new mech. He tensed his hands, flicking his fingers and causing the low lighting to reflect off of his claws.

"Ah haven't gone by that designation for a good while now." Jazz began and the yellow mech gave an easy going laugh as he pulled the chair up to the bars and took a seat, completely at ease even though if Jazz wanted to, he could easily reach through the bars and cause some damage.

"Funny what changes." The yellow bot paused and laughed waving his hand. "Sorry! I just realized how rude I'm being. My name's Bumblebee." The yellow mech tried to placate that already tense spy. Jazz tilted his head to the side. He recognized that name.

"Special ops."

"Yep! That's me." He answered and the grin seemed genuine.

"Now that you an me are well acquainted and such. Mind tell a mech what yer doin' here? Givin' me the creeps considering the fact that you ain't on the roster for mechs ta be visiting meh." Jazz intoned and Bumblebee nodded, still smiling.

"I figured you'd have that hacked by now." He stated as if it was no big deal. This perked Jazz's interested. "I'm just here for a little chat. Thought you might like some company." Jazz didn't say anything for a moment as he stood and approached the bars. The yellow bot didn't move, instead he remained still and calm without a single hint of fear.

"That so, yellow?" He asked crouching down so that he was looking up at Bumblebee with his head tilted to the side.

"Please call me Bee. Everyone here does… well except for Prowl. I don't think he believes in nicknames or anything fun." That earned a half smirk and a chuckle from Jazz. "Anywho. I'm actually here because I'm a huge fan of yours."

This caught the spy off guard. He had fans? Autobot fans? This was news. Bumbleebee grinned.

"Hey. I think all special ops here are fans. You're the mech that can get in and out of anything. You're practically a ghost." Jazz smirked before giving the mech before him a full on show of teeth. "What I wouldn't do to learn your secrets." Bumblebee admitted with an easy going wave. Jazz gave snort.

"When ah get out Bee, hit me up. I'll teach ya mah ways. Don expect to get out alive though." He purred with a playful twitch of his head and a cheeky grin. Bumblebee laughed, actually laughed as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer.

"I might be small Jazz but I can hold up my own. Made it this far." He answered and Jazz nodded. It was true. If Bee had made it this long in such a devastating war as a special ops member; he had to be good. After all, special ops lifespans were considerably shorter than everyone else's.

"True that, mah little mech. For a bot, you ain't so bad." They both laughed and Bumblebee snorted.

"Can't say it's mutual. I know some of the slag you've done."

"like yer one to talk, yellow." He smirked and Bumblebee nodded.

"Ah war." Bee hummed.

"Makin' us monstas in the name of political ideals." Bee nodded and Jazz sat further back, kicking his legs out from under him and gaining his general care free mannerisms now that he knew that this yellow bot wasn't out to kill him. At least for now. There was a slight, comfortable silence as if they had been friends for many stellar cycles. Finally Bumblebee sat up, closer to the bars.

"I have to ask, Jazz." At this the spy perked up slightly and hummed in acknowledgement. "Why are you still here? You've got what you came for. If you wanted to, you'd be long gone with none of us the wiser. So why?" Jazz gave a soft sigh, ready to pull out a cheeky retort but nothing came to mind.

He paused and his expression must have showed it because Bee sat back with a rather intrigued quirk of his optic ridges. The yellow bot gave him a sympathizing look and Jazz couldn't for the life of him understand it.

"You don't have anything waiting for you, do you Jazz?" He asked and now the spy gave a bitter bark of a laugh, that he had tried to disguise but failed.

"I ain't never had anything to go to. Even before tha war." Jazz disclosed with a swipe of his claws, dismissing it and all but threatening Bumblebee to continue on with what he was saying.

"But something's caught your interest Jazz otherwise you would have left." Bumblebee pushed and this time Jazz turned his head, a playful smirk now plastered on his face.

"Ya readin too much into this Bee. I'm just chillin'." At this he splayed his hands flat. "Everybot here is terrified of little o' me. I like it. Makes me feel alive." He soothed out with an easy wiggle of his claws and a flicker of his visor. Bumblebee smirked and the fact that he leaned back as if he knew something irritated Jazz greatly. He paused suddenly, sitting up right as he placed a hand to where his com was located. He nodded to the person, giving a thumbs up to the camera.

"Gotta go Jazz. Your favorite mech is on route and I don't think he'd appreciate the fact that I hacked the cell to talk with you." With that the yellow mech stood and replaced the chair. He gave a cheery salute to Jazz, which the spy returned and disappeared through the door as if he had never been there.

….

Prowl walked to the brig, the same way he always went. He had two cubes of energon, one in each hand along with his signature data pads neatly tucked under his arm. He made to turn the corner but stopped as a red arm shot out effectively blocking his path. A red chassis soon accompanied the arm as the unknown mech leaned closer. Prowl frowned and moved to walk around the mech but a shining yellow mech quickly moved and blocked that path as well.

The infamous yellow and red twins stood before him, Sideswipe with a rather… sadistic grin and Sunstreaker with his normal stoic and menacing scowl. Prowl stood straighter, feeling a slight twinge of unease at their hostile body language and he reciprocated by lifting his door wings higher and tensing his frame.

Sideswipe did the opposite of heeding his warnings by moving closer and obviously invading the second in command's comfort zone. It wasn't an uncommon thing for the mech to do but it didn't help that his brother was standing behind him oozing nothing but menace and ill will. Had the two finally lost it?

"Hi there Prowl." Sideswipe greeted leaning still even closer and Prowl frowned but nodded in response to the spoken address.

"Greetings Sideswipe." He turned his head to make optic contact with the yellow twin. "Sunstreaker." He added and the yellow twin jerked his head in response but remained silent and looming. Prowl quickly calculated his chance at a fight with the two of them. If had been Sideswipe alone he could have taken him no problem but his unpredictable twin put the odds in their favor.

"Soooo." Sideswipe began, looking to his hand that was placed firmly on the wall before sliding his icy blue optics to meet Prowl's. Prowl did not look away but was trying to move to a position that would give him better leverage. Sunstreaker must have caught on to this because he slid out from behind his red twin, moving in and also invading Prowl's personal space. He was beginning to feel rather claustrophobic.

"We overheard Ratchet and you talking the other cycle…" He paused and now Prowl was truly confused. What were they getting at?

"That con." Now it was Sunstreaker talking, his deep baritone sounding rather intimidating given the situation.

"Yeah. We heard he's stressing you out and you know, we don't like that. That's our job." He stopped and Prowl could only remark at how good of a job they did at it.

"What are you two getting at?" Prowl questioned and Sunstreaker smirked, actually smirked and it was something that Prowl wished he didn't see. Jazz apparently had competition in the creepy factor.

"What we're saying is that you let us in the brig with that mech. We'll teach him a few things." Sunstreaker hummed and Prowl wanted nothing more than to side step away from the two but unfortunately he was boxed in.

"He won't bug you after that. Fact, he'll probably tell you all his Deceptiscum secrets." Sideswipe piped in and Prowl looked between the two. He was honestly lost at what to say. Sunstreaker got closer.

"All you'd have to do is type in the code and suddenly get distracted and we'll take over." Sideswipe mirrored his brothers movement and Prowl stopped them by lifting his arms and stepping back, giving himself some space to breathe and think.

"I appreciate the offer Sideswipe, Sunstreaker." This Prowl meant even though he didn't understand what had brought this about. "but that is not the Autobot ways. I, nor Optimus, for that matter would condone the act of torture as a means of gaining information." Both of them deflated slightly and Sideswipe gave a chuckle, slapping Prowl on his shoulder as he walked past him. Sunstreaker did the same without the physical contact.

"You're no fun." Sideswipe grunted. "but the offer still stands if that mech does anything. Any mech for that matter. We got your back." He offered as the two of them disappeared around the corner that Prowl had just emerged from. He frowned and visibly cocked his head to the side.

Prowl remained like that for a good moment, going over the events in his head over and over again and upon finding no logical explanation, dropped all thought process. He sighed before returning his course, back to the brig where more madness was surely waiting for him.

….

"Wha'd up Prowler!" Jazz hollered from his position, spread out on the floor. Prowl cocked an optic ridge as he took in the relaxed form of the spy, leaning back on his arms with his legs sprawled out in front of him just before the bars.

"I believe you are turning the entire Autobot base into a nuthouse." He utter as a lame form of a greeting, taking a moment to set up his desk before handing Jazz his ration.

"Nah." Jazz answered and Prowl looked at him only to be greeted by a cheeky, lopsided grin. "ahm turning it into a party!"

"You would find an asylum a party." Prowl grunted as he sat down and Jazz actually stared at Prowl before laughing loudly.

"Careful mech. Yer humor's showin. Bots are gonna think you have a spark in that cold chassis of yers." Jazz prodded and Prowl made a noncommittal hum as he pulled up a data pad and began working.

"Tha'd all you do, Prowler? Sit behind a desk?" Jazz asked.

"Most of my duties consist around my office, yes." He answered and the spy groaned. "I am a tactician after all." He informed Jazz.

"Mech… you're gonna bore meh to death before your prime ever gets a chance to meet meh." He huffed and Prowl merely raised an optic ridge without even really acknowledging the statement.

"I doubt you would die that easy." He retorted.

"Nice ta know ya think so highly of meh." Jazz added before huffing. "Will ya at least acknowledge my existence this time? I don like being ignored." Jazz changed and Prowl looked up at Jazz.

"Hmmm. I don't think I quite understand your personality Jazz. You're position in the Decepticons requires solitude. Our Intel states that most Decepticons avoid a social structure on a personal level. Yet you obviously crave the interaction." He asked and watched as Jazz looked down, playing with and unseen speck of dust underneath a talon, seemingly drawing an invisible line. His visor dimmed before he looked up suddenly losing all nostalgia. He shrugged, a careless, graceful movement.

"What can ah say." He purred. "Walking contradiction here." He replied and Prowl knew he wasn't going to get an actual informative response so he hummed in response, turning back to his work. Jazz seemed content to watch him and though Jazz gaze was unwavering Prowl found himself used to the stare that to others might have been unnerving.

"Prowler?" Jazz began and the addressed mech turned his attention back to the saboteur. "What were you before the war?" He asked.

"That is an odd question." Prowl intoned.

"Ahm curious." Prowl paused and upon finding no immediate risk decided to indulge Jazz's never ending curiosity.

"I was an enforcer." This earned a snorted chuckle from Jazz and Prowl wasn't entirely sure what he found humorous. His face must have showed his irritation because Jazz waved a hand, almost apologetically.

"Ah wasn't laughin' at you mech. It's just… It's so you. You scream enforcer. Big bad copper." He snorted again. "Mech, even your designation." Prowl frowned.

"I don't know if you are insulting me." He stated with his usual stoic tone and Jazz tilted his head to the side a rather charming grin slapped on his features.

"Trust me mah mech. If ah was insulting you, ya'd know." Prowl grunted, not sure whether or to believe the black and white spy.

"What were you before the war?" Prowl redirected, not really expecting him to get an honest answer. Jazz gave a rumbling laugh as he tossed his head back in contemplation.

"Mech…" He hummed. "Ah was whatever ah wanted to be." Prowl raised an optic ridge. "ah was a drifter. Went where ah wanted. Musician, performer, thief, mercenary. I've done it all."

"I can imagine that being a rather difficult life." Prowl commented and Jazz's grin turned rather thoughtful.

"mmm. T'was. But Prowler ah was free! Ah answered to nobot. Saw places that mechs could only dream of. Free mech. Just me and the open road. When was the last time ya ever felt free, Prowler?" Jazz redirected and the question stumped Prowl. When had he ever felt free? What sort of question was that? He paused and the very logic center of his brain struggled to produce and answer. He opened his mouth to respond and felt foolish when he had nothing to say.

Jazz waited and for once he himself had no teasing remarks. He just watched as Prowl stood slightly straighter, seemingly coming up with an answer, his com buzzed to life with a rather frantic sounding Red Alert.

"Prowl, you're needed immediately. We have a situation." Prowl frowned and Jazz suddenly looked very intrigued as if he had heard the private communication.

"What sort of situation?" He asked feeling relieved at the sudden distraction.

"We have Decepticons attacking our northern energon stores." Prowl frowned and stood.

"Assemble the officers and prepare a briefing. I want numbers. We absolutely cannot afford to lose that to Megatron." Prowl commanded and he made his way to the door but stopped, turning to Jazz who had at some point made it to his feet. His expression was almost as stoic as Prowls, giving away nothing that could have been useful. Prowl studied the mech, debating if he should be placed in a form of stasis lock. Jazz gave him a cheeky flash of his visor and a smirk.

"Ah wouldn' recommend that." Jazz purred. "You'd regret losing a medic." He calmly stated as if he could read Prowl's very thoughts. Jazz was unfortunately correct. The only medic that might stand a chance against Jazz would have been Ratchet and he was to be attending the briefing.

"Then don't force me to go to such measures." Prowl threatened and the look that crossed the spy's face was equally as challenging before he seemed to relax.

"Chill mech." He eased with a playful flick of his hand. "Go do your job, Prowler. I promise I won't kill, dismember, or maim any Autobots while you're out being a glorified computer."

"I would appreciate that." He responded choosing to ignore the computer comment. Jazz grinned and shooed Prowl away with his hands. The tactician turned and exited the brig. Jazz watched him, and slowly his easy going grin morphed into a malicious grin. He chuckled.

"But ah never said ah'd behave."

….

"While we're having this stupid meeting, those no good cons are getting away with our energon." Ironhide growled the second Prowl entered the room. The others remained silent as the tactician and second in command didn't respond at first and instead remained all calm and stoic. He walked to the direct center of the room where all optics were trained on him. This only seemed to irritate Ironhide more. "We're wasting time. Let's deploy some mechs." He continued to growl and Prowl turned his back to the red mech to study the screen.

"The likelihood of failure while going about this blind rises substantially. It would be illogical for us to take such risks." He threw over his shoulder before turning to Red Alert. "Is this all the information you were able to obtain?" The mech nodded.

"Yes. Mirage has some of his mechs near the area. We should have more accurate information popping up very soon.

"Any fliers?" Prowl asked.

"So far no, sir." He answered and Ratchet grunted.

"Doesn't mean there won't be. Depends on how much Megatron wants that energon." Prowl nodded to the medic.

"Still attacking our Northern stores? That seems a bit risky. I mean… even for Megatron." Bluestreak added from somewhere in the back.

"Agreed. There might be an underlying agenda here. I wouldn't put it past Megatron to want to divide our resources. Use the attack as a sort of distraction." Prowl retorted, studying as the numbers on the screen changed. It looked as if Mirage's mechs came through.

"That no good Decepticon!" Ratchet all but snarled and Prowl turned his attention to him. "That spy must told Megatron that Optimus is otherwise engaged."

"Not quite. The brig would have canceled any and all outside transmissions. I believe Megatron has had suspicions of our Prime's absence. He's just now acting upon it." Prowl paused as he turned back to the data. He rubbed under his chin with one finger before nodding to himself.

"Prepare thirty percent of your mechs for departure immediately, Ironhide."

"Only thirty?" He questioned.

"Yes. I want the rest to be patrolling here. Our outer quadrants. The threat level for an attack while we are gone has risen substantially. Make this clear to the patrol units." Prowl directed this at Red Alert.

"Yes Sir."

"Get the twins as well. I want them with us." Ironhide snorted at Prowl.

"You really want those twin menaces with you? Bunch of loose cannons if you will."

"I believe they will provide enough of a tactical advantage especially if we have issue with any fliers. If we handle this with the utmost precision we will succeed." At that he looked every mech in the optic. "Dismissed." Prowl finished gaining a chorus of 'Yes sirs', as they filed out of the room.

….

"You know…" Bumblebee began standing in a completely empty hallway with his fists planted firmly on his hips as he stared up into the support beams. "I don't think you're supposed to be up there." He continued with a rather puzzled expression on his face. Jazz chuckled from his perch on one of the rafters, as he sat or rather lounged in a position that seemed to deny the flexibility of basic Cybertronian anatomy.

"Nope." He agreed with a cheeky smirk that curled and practically took up most of his facial plates. Bumblebee quirked an optic ridge at this.

"Prowl probably isn't going to be too pleased about this." He added and Jazz's grin grew.

"Nope."

"And I take it you're not going to go back into the brig without a fight?" He tried with a pleading grin and Jazz just snorted.

"Mech… ya realize how lonely it gets in there?" He explained and instead of forcing the matter Bumblebee only nodded slowly. Irritating Jazz when he was alone with the mech, wasn't the best idea, for anyone.

"You do realize Red Alert is just going to crash when he finds out you aren't in the brig anymore." The grin that greeted Bumblebee was answer enough.

"That mech freaks at his own shadow. Nothin' knew." Jazz returned and Bee had to hand it to the spy. He had the security director down. So giving a knowing shake of his head Bumblebee gave a snort as he lifted his hand to his chest.

"Now. I really don't want to know this." He began with a biding humor lacing his tone. "but with all of your free time what exactly have you been up to? Am I going to have to send out a search party for some unfortunate mech or sound the alarm for a bomb?" Jazz threw his head back and chuckle as he stepped away from the yellow mech, throwing his arms out the side and lowering his head. The look that crossed his features was clearly mischievous.

"Who meh?" After this he placed his clawed hands right above his spark. "Ya wound me Bee. Right here. Mah spark, mech." He dramatized and Bumblebee put a hand on his hip.

"What spark?"

"You cruel Bee." He chuckled, standing from his dramatics and waving a hand at his chassis. "It's there. Just small." He purred, winking by dimming the light on one side of his visor. Not amused Bumblebee rolled his optics which caused Jazz to huff loudly in mock offense.

"But ya don't have to worry none. I promised Prowler that I wouldn't maim or kill no mechs and as far as I know, bombs do that." Jazz continued, taking a moment to look at his arm and pick an unseen fleck of dirt. Bumblebee didn't say anything but instead stated at Jazz as if he was looking at a ghost. Jazz met his optics and his lips disappeared into a thin line to show his irritation. "Wha?" He growled and the yellow mech remained utterly surprised.

"I don't believe it." Jazz took offense to this.

" 'm a mech of my word." He stated in a low rumbling hiss. To placate the spy Bumblebee held up his hands again to his chest.

"Not doubting that. Just… you know, surprised that you promised Prowl that. Our Prowl. You know. Stick up his tailpipe Prowl."

"He ain't that bad." Now Jazz gave a particularly wicked grin. "Fun ta torment." With that Jazz took a few steps and seemingly to a song that only the mech could hear took a few gracefully skip steps and turned, bobbing his head to the unheard beat. He gave a crooked grin and in step still the silent music, rotated his body in a motion that defied Cybertronian anatomy and pointed a sharp claw at Bumblebee.

"So tell meh, Bee. Whatcha up to?" He asked and the yellow mech shrugged.

"Well… I guess I was planning to head to the rec room, grab a cube and chat with a few of my friends but since you're he-" He began but Jazz interrupted him with a pleased clap.

"Sounds like a plan! Let's go. Ahm starved." He cheered and it literally took Bee a moment to comprehend what the black and white mech had said. He cycled his optics and watched as Jazz practically sauntered in the general direction of where the rec room was located.

"Hey…" He stated trotting to catch up with the determined mech, trying to stop him before he reached the door that was just around the corner. Jazz threw him a look of his shoulder, still cocky grin in place. "Let's not do that ya? Not a good idea. Prowl would not be pleased with me if I got you shot." The spy laughed.

"Chill mech." He placated, flickering his visor. "Trust meh. I'm smooth. Just gonna grab a cube and chat with the locals." And oddly enough, against all of his reason Bumblebee nodded. Jazz didn't live as long as did by pure luck. He knew what he was doing or at least Bee hoped he did because reasoning with him was out of the question.

Jazz was all smiles as he opened the door by pressing the panel, holding it and letting Bee go first with a flourished hand flick. Bumblebee moved forward and his entire frame was tense, waiting for the chaos that Jazz was sure to bring. A few mechs greeted Bee, which he returned with his casual wave and friendly smile barely able to hide the downright pulsing terror that was flickering through his spark.

He made it exactly halfway into the rec room, his optics locked on the energon dispenser when a soft rolling laugh escaped Jazz. Bee turned his head to the mech that was beside him and he waved his claws.

"Chill mech." He soothed. "Mechs don notice what's right in front of their optics." Bee blinked as he reached the dispenser and collected his cube. Jazz was still all casual, not even trying to hide. By all appearances he looked as if he belonged here. Red visor and all. Jazz just fit.

Jazz retrieved his cube and Bumblebee turned, and his intentions of just walking out were stopped as Blaster waved him over from across the room, pulling out a seat. He looked at the table and the only other mech was Hound. Feeling trapped he approached and Jazz still followed.

"Whats up, little buddy!" Blaster greeted as the duo approached, and hound even subconsciously scooted to the side to allow Jazz room to pull out a chair and sit next to Bee. Jazz grinned as he took his spot, leaning back in his chair and looping an arm around the back rest, crossing one leg over the other.

"Not gonna introduce us, Bee?" Blaster stated, turning his optics to look at the newcomer. He was all friendly vibes as his blue optics just glanced over Jazz. "Who's your friend?" He began and suddenly the air at the table changed from friendly to pure shock as revelation practically slapped Blaster in the face. He cycled his optics several times before his hand was reaching for his weapon. Hound followed and Jazz found himself with two deadly weapons pointed at his face.

The only thing that moved on Jazz was his lips he quirked a deadly grin that was all teeth. He chuckled and it sounding by far deadlier than anything he could have possibly said.

"Not the smartest move, con." Blaster growl lowly and Jazz's lips split further as he moved a single hand slowly, grabbing his cube and bringing the itto his lips.


End file.
